


The R Ring and All Who Gave It Away

by PastelLimes



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Beatrice is a schemer, F/M, Family Heirlooms, Heartbreak and grief, Hints/subtle abusive relationship, Ramona is queen at peer pressure, The R ring, This is all straight wHAT, somewhat evil Beatrice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 04:15:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14536431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelLimes/pseuds/PastelLimes
Summary: The ring, known as the 'R Ring' to volunteers, was passed from duchess to duchess until the last duchess, Ramona, decided a sad man needed the heirloom more. A sad man gives it to a mysterious woman. From woman to man, the ring goes to a tragic couple. From abuse the ring is passed to a hopeful suitor. From mother to daughter, from Baudelaire to Snicket. The R Ring has a noble history.





	The R Ring and All Who Gave It Away

**The R Ring**

**I**

“This ring is of great importance, Ramona! I can’t...I can’t accept this,” Lemony said, setting his teacup back upon its saucer. Ramona scoffed. 

“Sure you can, Lemony. I want you to have it, truly. You’re my best friend and I’m never going to pass this ring unto my daughter if I can’t, and won’t have one.” She took a refined sip of tea, keeping her deep brown eyes locked on the youngest Snicket sibling with great intrigue. Lemony was still flustered. 

“I simply don’t think it appropriate! This is a marriage, rite of passage ring, Ramona! I…I...Beatrice and I aren’t ready for anything involving this. ”

“Beatrice seems to disagree,” Ramona interjected quickly, casting a smirk. Lemony stopped and blushed further. 

“It’s complicated.” 

“As it always it with Beatrice. You know,” Ramona smiled devilishly, sliding the ring’s box towards Lemony across the smooth oak table. “You could take it slow and, let’s say, propose to her with this.” 

Lemony made a strained face, like a grimace. “Heavens no. I...care for her and I love her...but,” she coughed. “I could never do it with this.” He eyed the ring’s box. 

Ramona giggled in triumph. Cracking Snickets open like eggs was more fun than she anticipated. Crossing her legs beneath the table and clasping her hands together, Ramona leaned in over her teacup. “Take the ring, Lemony Snicket.”

Hand aquiver, Lemony reached beyond his lap, laying his fingertips on the smooth velvet box brandished with a stern V.F.D. eye. Ramona quirked a brow expectantly. Lemony drew the box to him, carefully prying it open. He inhaled softly upon seeing the glimmering, commanding ring. Grazing his fingertips along the ring’s face, Lemony looked back up at Ramona, looking awfully red in the face even in the soft morning light streaming in from the windows of the drawing room. 

“Ramona, I don’t mean to disappoint you but I,”

“You’ll take it? Oh, Lemony, I knew I could rely on you!” Ramona reached across the tea table, touching the back of Lemony’s hand sweetly. Lemony smiled, albeit weakly. The man thanked Ramona for tea and the generous gift before standing up, sliding the velvet box into his inner trench coat pocket.  

Once she showed Lemony to the front door, Ramona giddily wished him goodbye as he slid into his taxi and slowly went down the lane. Shutting the door, Ramona placed her hands upon her hips, satisfied with her persuasion. 

 

**II**

Beatrice covered her mouth as she gasped. “Lemony, I!” she couldn’t finish her sentence as Lemony slid the ring onto her ring finger with a giddy, nervous smile on his face. She was breathless and speechless, blown away as she jumped into Lemony’s arms, peppering his face with kisses with short “Yes!”s in between them. He held her tightly, smiling ear to ear. 

Deep within her core, Beatrice felt a sickly sweet sense of success fill her. She now had Lemony in the palm of her hand, luckily for her. Once she parted herself from Lemony, she ran her hand along his jawline, cupping his chin in her palm. His eyes, sad and deep gray, met her own softly, wavering with joy and worry. 

“I love you,” he said to her.

“I,” Beatrice stopped talking, replacing her words with a coy grin. She ran her hand from his chin, letting her nails graze the tender skin of his Adam’s apple, the hilt of her palm glide down his chest to rest over his tie. “I love you, too,” she said in an alluring tone that she could tell gave Lemony butterflies. He shuddered under her touch. 

Her ring shimmered under the light of the streetlamp and the glittering city lights as night befell the city. Beatrice glanced at it, admiring the deep rouge of the ring’s center jewel. The silver band was covered in little eye engravings, delicately placed and intricate. Her dark red lips curled into a smile. 

 

Beatrice tore off the ring, slipping it into the envelope with the assortment of letters within. Disgust filled her as she sealed it with a wax stamp, glaring at it with disdain as the wax dried. Her heart rumbled with betrayal and rage, but also pleasure and the sweetness of deceit. Sure she was scheming against Lemony for a very long time, but she never intended to see him as an arsonist, an enemy. The Snicket fortune will not be hers, neither would the ring, but the pain and satisfaction of a lying arsonist with a broken heart would be hers.

She sent the letter away before the ring and it’s shine and shimmer could entrap her in a theft. 

 

“I don’t understand…” Lemony said aloud to no one but himself. Beatrice’s letter was long, confusing and obviously written in haste. The ring sat in his open, left palm, glaring upwards at him, seeming to cry “she has truly left you”. The woman he loved left him for a crime he didn’t commit, based on the words of a man Beatrice despised. Tears spilled from Lemony’s eyes before he could stop them. His body began to tremble with grief and disbelief. 

Beatrice had left him for a rumor. Lemony clutched his hand around the ring, its coolness chilling his skin. It had no home here. 

 

**III**

“This ring is of great importance.” Lemony shoved his hands deep into his dress pants pockets. “I want you to have it.” 

Kit readjusted her hold on her umbrella. Rain beat down on the pavement, thunder rumbled overhead and sirens wailed in the distance. “L, but why?”  
“Just take it, Kit. Give it to Olaf or something, he can have it. Or give it back to Ramona, she won’t be too disappointed.” 

“L...Lemony.” 

“Take it, Kit. I don’t want it. Beatrice didn’t want it. She doesn’t want anything.” Lemony turned away, beginning to stalk back to his taxi that waited at the curb. Kit watched him go, one hand holding her umbrella, the other clasped around the velvet casing for the family heirloom she knew she had no right to. Stepping back into her apartment, Kit sat on her creaky bed, opening the case. She admired the ring for many seconds before she heard the front door open and close. 

“Kathleen?” Olaf peeked his head into her room. He caught sight of the ring and his lips curled into a smile. “Is that Ramona’s ring? I thought Snicket had it, oh right,” he paused to cackle. “He gave it to  _ Beatrice _ .” Olaf made a mocking, disgusting gag noise. Kit frowned deeply at him. 

“One, it’s Kit. Two, Beatrice gave it back to him. The engagement,”

“Is over, I know, my lovely. I hear the gossip too.” Olaf quirked his brow at her, walking over to her to where he loomed above her sitting form. His fingers grazed along her thigh. Kit tensed. 

“Of course you do.” Kit stood up, nearly chest to chest with the man before her. “Now get out, I wanna change.” She gave Olaf a playful push against his chest. He smiled down at her until he craned downward to kiss her hard. Kit’s grip on the ring tightened. He smelled like the theatre and cologne, an overpowering scent that blinded Kit for a moment as she kissed passionately back. Olaf’s hand found her waist, tugging her closer. 

His other hand wrapped around her fist which held the ring like a clam. Olaf’s fingers broke through her fist and seized the ring. Kit broke away from him, hand now empty. 

“Give it back,” Kit demanded softy yet she smiled up at him. Olaf twiddled the ring in hand for a moment, the shine in his eyes growing. 

“Alright, Kit, my lovely,” he cooed, lifting her left hand in his vacant one. Smoothly, gingerly, he placed the ring upon her left ring finger. Kit held her breath, staring at the ring with wide eyes. Something in her heart broke. She doubted this action as a proposal. 

Olaf broke her train of thought with a viciously wonderful kiss, landing them both on Kit’s bed. He kissed her neck and jawline. Kit wrapped her arms around his shoulders. 

“Marry me, Kit.” He whispered against her collarbone. Kit dug her nails into his shoulder blades. “Marry me and make me the happiest man alive.” 

Kit held him tighter, gazing over his shoulder to look on miserably the ring. 

 

**IV**

Bertrand had told Kit of his plans to propose to Beatrice many days ago. He was awkwardly smiling when he told her, probably due to his sense of betraying Lemony. Kit had listened intently. 

She decided on that day to do her deed, but Olaf was the final push to get her to do it. He started the argument, going as far as to get physical with her. Kit hit him back every time he laid a hand on her. It escalated from there. Wine bottles were thrown, Kit’s suitcase was packed, the storm to the door was long and full of Olaf yelling at her, pleading to her, gripping her arm and yanking her back or throwing her into the wall. Kit whipped around and slapped his fiercely. She was gone in seconds. 

“I think you should propose to Beatrice with this.” Kit handed Bertrand the ring, now placed in a small black bag with drawstrings made of velvet.   

Bertrand opened the drawbag and held his breath. “Oh...I couldn’t.  _ Dieu _ , Kit, this would be cruel to Lemony.” 

“Well it’s in my possession now and I give it to you as a gift for your future with Beatrice.” Kit’s cheek throbbed from where Olaf had shoved her against the wall, causing her cheek to hit the wall with a loud thud. “Lemony won’t mind, besides, he’s off the face of the earth at this moment.” She added dully. 

Bertrand rubbed the bag between his hands absentmindedly as the cafe hummed around him. He eyed Kit, his dark blue eyes filled with an unreadable emotion; gratitude? Fear? He put the bag into his satchel bag placed in the chair next to him. “Thank you, Kit.” He said after a long moment. He paid for their coffees and left the cafe, leaving Kit behind. She wrung her gloved hands together, watching steam billow from her coffee. 

 

**V**

Beatrice loved recalling Bertrand’s proposal to her. As she cradled her daughter, Violet, in her arms, Beatrice gazed into the nursery, lost in thought, primarily looking at the box across the room, hidden in plain sight, that contained the spark of her memory with Bertrand. He had knelt down to her and asked her ever so sweetly, his accent thick and lovely. Beatrice accepted in a heartbeat, all of her past left behind for one wonderful moment. She grinned when Bertrand placed the ring upon her and she willingly went down the aisle to him a handful of weeks later. 

Her infant daughter stirred, drawing Beatrice out of her trance. Beatrice grinned, her face darkening by the shadows of the room. 

How wonderful victory was. 

 

**VI**

Violet looked at Klaus and Sunny as morning came. Kit was long cold, her body stiff with death, and Olaf was still face down in the sand, dead even longer than the Snicket. Violet held Beatrice II in her arms, staring sadly ahead as her siblings gazed gravely back. 

“We will give her the ring come her age. It’s the last thing she has of her family,” Violet whispered as an ocean breeze stirred the sands and rustled the trees. 

“But she has us. We are her family.” Klaus dug his hand into the sand. 

“You’re right. I shouldn’t be so pessimistic,” Violet replied, rocking her arms back and forth as Beatrice squirmed in Violet’s hold. Morning sunlight began to warm the Baudelaires as they dug graves. Violet gave Beatrice to Sunny as Klaus and Violet did the dirty work, hauling the bodies across the beach to cover in sand and dirt on the brae. Violet nearly threw up at the stiff, rough texture of Kit’s hands as she pulled the woman along, feeling as though she was disgracing the woman’s afterlife. 

When the deed was done, Violet and Klaus returned to the beach to find Sunny with a wailing Beatrice. Sunny glanced up at her siblings, silent. 

Violet picked Beatrice up from Sunny’s weak hold and held the baby to her chest. She hushed Beatrice, but the baby refused to stop crying. Klaus grabbed the ring from his pocket, grabbing Violet’s ribbon from his sister’s pocket, and looped the ring onto the ribbon. He tied the ribbon around Beatrice’s wrist, tying it securely. Beatrice’s cries died down. Klaus looked up at Violet, who was frowning deeply. 

 

**VII**

With shaking hands, Beatrice showed the shepherds an old necklace she had secretly stolen from a shop. The oldest frowned disapprovingly. “Not enough, sorry little girl.” 

“What about this?” Beatrice rummaged through her bag and drew out a bag of goods; cans of condensed milk, a packet of coffee, three slices of bread and two packets of jam. “Food should do it right? It’s all I have, please.” 

“No. Sorry girl.” Said the eldest. A young man, dressed scraggly and had wild eyes, spoke up. 

“What about that ring on your bracelet, girl?” 

Beatrice slowly looked down at her wrist and the maroon ribbon wrapped around it. The ring caught the sunlight and reflected proudly. She swallowed. “I couldn’t…” she knew of its importance, its history. It would be what proved her to be a Snicket. 

“It would be enough,” the young man added with a grin. Beatrice frantically looked up, refusing to show her tears. It would be worth it, it would be worth the extra convincing Beatrice told herself furiously. Her mother would be glad she made necessary sacrifices to find her uncle, her father would put her action down as noble. She slowly untied the ribbon, still staring out into the countryside. 

Beatrice handed the ring over. A tear slid down her cheek when the man hastily grabbed it from her hand. “Hop on in, girl!” he chirped, grinning dirtily as he shoved the ring into his pocket. The only woman took Beatrice’s hand and helped her pack up her bag once again and saddle up for a safe yak ride across the countryside. 

Sitting atop a yak, Beatrice cried softly into the wind. 


End file.
